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Story of tbe tempest 





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3 ^ > 5" 

STORY 

OF 



T 



BY 

LEONORA OREM 



Edited by 
W. F. ROCHELEAU 

Author of 

'Great American Industries, , ' "Geography of Com- 
merce, "" Notes on "Evangeline, ' ' "Snow- 
bound, " "Hiawatha' "and other Classics. 



CHICAGO 

ORVILLE BREWER PUBLISHING CO. 

1910 



140* 



TKAt 7f 
-1+ o 7 



Copyright 1910, 

by 

ORVILLE BREWER 



©CLA256703 



THE STORY OF THE TEMPEST. 

INTRODUCTION. 

The Tempest is one of the latest of Shakespeare's 
plays, and some critics consider it the last one he wrote. 
It was written between 1603 and 1612, but no one 
seems to known the year of its completion. The play, 
which is a comedy, is supposed to be founded upon the 
expedition of Sir George Somers, Sir Thomas Gates and 
Captain Newport, who with nine ships and a large com- 
pany of people set out for Virginia in May, 1609. 
Somers, Gates and Newport were among those on the 
ship known as the Sea Venture, and on July 25, during 
a great storm, this ship was separated from the others 
and supposed to have been lost. The fate of Gates and 
Somers was _not known for nearly a year, when it was 
learned through Gates 1 return and a narrative published 
about that time that the Sea Venture was driven upon 
the Bermudas and that most of the company found shel- 
ter on one of those islands, which is referred to in the 
play as the "still vexed Bermoothes." 

Owing to the dangerous reefs surrounding the Ber- 
mudas they had not at this time been explored, and 
superstitious sailors believed them to be enchanted. The 
poet avails himself of this belief to endow the people, 
whom he describes the ship-wrecked mariners as finding 
there, with supernatural powers. The story that fol- 
lows is doubtless based upon some old European legend. 

The leading characters are : 
Alonzo, King of Naples 
Sebastian, his Brother 
Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan 
3 



4 The Tempest 

Antonio, his Brother, the usurping Duke of Milan 
Ferdinand, son of the King of Naples 
Gonzalo, a gentleman of Prospero "s Court. 
Caliban, a savage and deformed Slave 
Trinculo, a Jester 
Stephano, a drunken Butler 
Miranda, daughter of Prospero 
Ariel, an airy Spirit. 

THE TEMPEST. 

PROSPEItO, THE MAGICIAN. 

Almost five hundred years ago, there were living alone 
together, on one of the small, verdant islands of the 
Atlantic Ocean, an aged magician, Prospero, and his 
daughter whom he had named Miranda. Miranda means 
"the wonderful," and truly wonderful was she; beauti- 
ful as an angel, so good that she seemed to link heaven 
with earth, and wiser than many of the most brilliant 
princesses of Europe. 

It was among ideal surroundings that lovely Miranda 
had grown to young womanhood ; for she had never had 
a companion save the bright plumaged birds, sweet per- 
fumed flowers, and, at night, the quiet stars of heaven. 
She had had no amusements save watching the red rose 
unfold its great petals, harkening to the twitterings of 
the sappho and whidah bird, or scampering along the 
shore to elude the white-crested waves which leaped over 
the sharp crags to kiss her feet. Miranda was a true 
child of nature, innocent as a babe of the customs and 
artful practices of young men and maidens who, under 
usual circumstances, would have been her mates. 

According to the deep laid plan of the magician Pros- 
pero, whose whole soul was rapt up in the welfare of 
his daughter, Miranda had been kept in total ignorance 
of the conditions of her birth. How then could this 



The Tempest 5 

timid girl ever have dreamed that she was a princess in 
her own right, a ruler over one of the lordliest princi- 
palities in Italy, over rich Milan? Yet this was her rank; 
for Prospero, though living on a deserted island, was 
really an aristocrat, the honored Duke of Milan, who, 
through treachery, had been driven out of the fair land 
which was his birthright. 

Prospero was a student rather than a ruler of men. 
Nothing so delighted him as to retire from the public 
gaze and, rapt in the solitude of his extensive library, 
delve into the written wealth of the world. Such a course 
easily won for Prospero fame as a profound scholar ; but 
it left him little time for state-craft. Thus had it hap- 
pened that, in his perplexity, Prospero had turned to his 
handsome young brother, Antonio, asking him, as a 
favor, to assume control over the signore, or dukedom. 

Now handsome young Antonio was eager and full of 
brimming life. He craved popularity and his heart 
burned with boundless ambition. No sooner had he 
tasted the joy of ruling thousands of people than he 
began to ache to make that power his own. "My father 
was Duke. I am as royal blooded as Prospero, and as 
ably as he can I reign ! Why should the old book-worm 
stand in my light? If I can but make these stupid 
people forget the love they bear him ! Ah — !" An- 
tonio's eyes gleamed wickedly. 

Prom the moment that this dark idea had taken root 
in his mind, Antonio schemed, by night and by day, how 
to advance to positions of trust those who would in the 
future help him in a dark and wicked plan which he was 
brooding, and in taking from offices of trust those whom 
he feared would be loyal to the real duke, Prospero. As 
a result of such methods it was not long, therefore, 
before he had in his keeping the tuning key of the realm, 
and could set all hearts in the state to what tune pleased 
his ear. As Prospero himself once bitterly said; 



6 The Tempest 

"he was 
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, 
And suck'd my verdure out on't." 

The lust for power had sounded the depths of Antonio's 
evil nature. He had warped his conscience, and 

like one, 
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it, 
Made such a singer of his memory, 
To credit his own lie, 

Antonio began to believe that it was he who was the real 
Duke of Milan. His treacherous thoughts had already 
displaced his loving, trusting brother. The next step 
was to bodily evict Prospero from his own dukedom. 

In order to accomplish his base object, Antonio 
formed an alliance with Alonzo, King of Naples, and 
known throughout all Italy as the bitterest foe to Pros- 
pero. According to the compact, Antonio would give 
homage, even to subjecting his coronet to the crown of 
Naples, in addition to a yearly tribute of vast sums of 
gold. Alonzo, for his part, was to aid in driving Pros- 
pero from Milan, and in placing the imperial power of 
the unfortunate dukedom in the hands of the unworthy 
Antonio. Consequently, at a late hour, one inky black 
night, Antonio crept stealthily to the great iron gates of 
the city, with his own hands, swung them open to admit 
a gang of ruffians who were to hound Milan, seize Pros- 
pero and his infant daughter, Miranda, and hurry them 
out to sea. 

Both Antonio and Alonzo knew well the love which 
the common Milanese had always borne the aged Pros- 
pero, and fearing their quick revenge, should they hear 
that Prospero had been killed, it was planned that "with 
colors fairer painted, their foul ends should be." So 
while a pouring rain was lashing against their faces, the 
good king and the baby princess were crowded on board 



The Tempest 7 

A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd 
Nor tackle, sail, nor masts; the very rats 
Instinctively had quit it. 

Here they were left to the mercy of the breakers surging 
ragefully about them, and, as Prospero said years later, 
"to sigh to the winds, whose pity, sighing back again, 
did us but loving wrong." 

Crushed by Antonio's ingratitude, besides being half 
famished, and sick almost to death from wet and cold, 
Prospero could never have kept alive had it not been 
for the cheering comfort of the cherub, Miranda, who 
cooed and gurgled so trustingly at him that, for her 
sweet sake, he resolved to fight for a chance of life. How- 
ever, Prospero's courageous struggle would have availed 
nothing had it not been for the loving foresight of Gon- 
zalo, one of the gentlemen of his court. Lord Gonzalo 
had managed to smuggle into the boat, though at great 
risk of detection, food, fresh water, rich raiment with 
linen necessities. Hidden under these were certain pre- 
cious books on witchcraft, from Prospero's own library, 
which the old monarch had valued above his dukedom. 
Thanks to Gonzalo' s help, Prospero and Miranda man- 
aged to keep barely alive, and finally drifted, in an 
almost exhausted condition, to the wonderously beautiful 
island which was to be their home for so many happy 
years. 

Of course Prospero was totally ignorant of all direc- 
tions and knew nothing of the land on which he was 
stranded. After lying on the beach for a day, he so far 
recovered strength as to be able to hobble on a staff down 
a broad path which led inland from the sea. This road 
was lined on either side with gigantic cypress which fur- 
nished refreshing shade from the intense rays of the sun. 
At the end of the road, a deep mouthed cave opened. 
Tears of joy rolled down Prospero's cheeks when he 
saw it, and thanking God for their deliverance, he crawl- 



8 The Tempest 

ed into the hollow rock and made of it a rude home for 
himself and his helpless infant. Here they were pro- 
tected from the weather and possible wild beasts, and as 
time went by, they came to love their strange, rude 
home. As soon as Miranda could lisp, Prospero started 
to teach her how to read his great books, and to write. 
In fact, his chief pleasure was to devote hours each day 
to instructing his golden curled little daughter, with 
the result, that had she been on the continent, she would 
have been considered a very brilliant young woman. 
What extra time Prospero had, was spent in studying 
witchcraft and magic from the very books saved to him 
by good old Gonzalo. This unusual knowledge served 
him in good stead, for by it he very soon learned that 
in the lichen covered rocks about him an old hag had 
once imprisoned numbers of good spirits, which, liberated 
would be willing servants for him, and loving attendants 
for his daughter. 

These gentle fairies had been chained in torture by a 
blue-eyed hag named Sycarox who was so venomous and 
hateful that, in sheer ugliness, she had bent over and 
grown in the shape of a hoop. For her practices in 
witchcraft, too terrible for human thought, she had been 
driven from her former home in Algiers, and carried to 
this lone isle with her mis-shapen son. Fearfully dreaded 
had she been because of her awful power; for she had 
control over even the moon, and made the tide to ebb 
and flow. Moreover, Sycarox used her influence for 
nought but evil, and those who would not help her in her 
wicked designs, were imprisoned in trees and rocks. 

The tricky Ariel was one of the delicate spirits whom 
Sycarox had confined in a cloven pine. For twelve long 
years had the dainty little Ariel been thus tortured, 
groaning till it "did make wolves howl and penetrate 
the breasts of ever angry bears." 

Just before the coming of Prospero, Sycarox had 



The Tempest 9 

died, leaving the island in possession of her deformed 
son, Caliban, a thing half man, half fish, with arms like 
fins, and a body covered with the long hair of a monkc}'. 
Altogether, Caliban was too ugly to look upon with his 
huge jaw, and pointed, protruding teeth. Besides, he 
had the nature of a wolf, was malicious and discontented, 
and utterly incapable of being won by gentleness. 

One day, as Prospero was strolling about the island, 
he saw something that caused him to grip his magic 
wand the tighter, and draw back in afright. For lying 
flat on the ground, his feet splashing in a puddle of 
dirty water, his chin resting on his hands, and looking 
far out over the sea, was the beast-man, Caliban. "Here, 
fellow !" called Prospero when he had recovered from 
his astonishment, for he concluded now that the island, 
which he had hitherto supposed deserted, was inhabited 
by a race of just such monsters. "Here fellow!" 

And Caliban, thinking some strange beast was growl- 
ing at him, turned leisurely on his elbow, and loudly 
gibbered, as though to drive the strange animal away, 
in sounds which commingled the grunts of a boar and the 
twitterings of a blue jay. 

From this, Prospero saw at once that Caliban had the 
mind of an animal as well as its shape, and having suf- 
fered himself, he pitied the poor wretch and determined 
to teach him. So the old magician took the monster 
home, lodged him in one of the chambers of his cell, and 
was kind to him until Caliban soon learned not to cower 
at his foot step, but to look up and smile. Years later, 
when Caliban had grown to hate his protector, he still 
had to admit to him : 

"Thou strokedst me and madst much of me, wouldst 

give me 
Water with berries in't, and teach me how 
To name the bigger light, and how the less, 
That burn by day and night." 



10 The Tempest 

Likewise, had the lovely Miranda taught Caliban 
those things which her father had so carefully taught 
her, and, in return for such gentleness, Caliban had loved 
them both, and showed his master 

"all the qualities o' the isle, 
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile." 

As Caliban was leading Prospero to a reef of beau- 
tiful coral, one day, the old Duke was attracted by low 
groans which seemed to be tearing a human body. 

"What's that, Caliban?" asked Prospero in alarm, 
his hand to his ear, and the beads of water standing out 
on his forehead at the agony of the sounds he heard. 
"Let us make haste to help !" 

Whereupon Caliban, a crafty grimace on his face, 
wriggled his way over the ground, and directed his mas- 
ter to the knotted pine in which he knew that the sweet 
Ariel was imprisoned. Horror-stricken at such brutality, 
Prospero clutched tightly the magical cross on his 
bosom, gave three twists of his mystical, white wand, 
and lo! Ariel sprang out of the tree, the dainty Ariel, 
looking just as when the foul witch Sycarox had cast 
her baneful spell over him. 

With a breaking cry of relief Ariel had sprung to 
the feet of Prospero, his long yellow curls dancing on his 
shoulders, and each leaf in the cypress chaplet that en- 
circled his head quivering with the fresh winds to which, 
for so long, they had been unaccustomed. Very dainty 
and pure did Ariel look in his silk tunic, varied in color 
as the clouds of the heaven, with his gaily hued stock- 
ings, and scarf that folded over his right shoulder, 
matching in tone -the saffron of his little wings. So over- 
come with gratitude was the good spirit, that he fairly 
prostrated himself on the ground before Prospero, offer- 
ing to be his helpful servant, ministering to him and 
to his small daughter. 

Hereafter Prospero had two servants, though the kind 



The Tempest 11 

old Duke came to acknowledge that he had made a mis- 
take in trying to teach the brute Caliban who proved 
unworthy of the thought and care showered upon him. 
For Caliban very soon objected to fetching fresh water, 
and to chopping wood till, in order to get him to do 
anything at all, Prospero had to threaten him, saying : 

"Hag-seed, hence ! 
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best, 
To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice? 
If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly 
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, 
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar 
That beasts shall tremble at thy din." 

Such language Caliban could understand, and 
only then would he move slowly off, muttering sullenly 
under his breath : "This isle's mine ! He stole it from 
me, and made me his slave ! True, he taught me his 
language, and now I'll curse him with it ! 'Oh wicked dew 
that my mother once gathered on raven's wings from 
unwholesome fen, drop on them both, and blister Pros- 
pero all over'." Sputtering thus to himself, Caliban 
would whack indifferently at the huge logs for the fire, 
though he knew all along that his powerful master 
could read his innermost thoughts, and that in return 
for his ugliness he would that very night have side 
stitches which would choke his breath away. Fairies, 
too would jump on him, pinching him "as thick as 
honey-comb, each pinch more stinging than bees that 
made 'em." 

"He'll set his spirits on me, I know," grumbled Cali- 
ban, "and this night they'll come to me 

'Sometimes like apes that mow and chatter at me 
And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which 
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount 
Their pricks at my footballs; sometimes am I 
All wounds with adders who with cloven tongues 
Do hiss me into madness.' " 



12 The Tempest 

Gradually the gentle Miranda came to loathe Caliban, 
and she could not look at him when she passed the pen 
of rocks in which Prospero had had to confine him be- 
cause of his treachery. And yet, till Miranda had 
reached the age of eighteen, Caliban was the only man, 
excepting her father, whom she had ever seen. 

As Prospero was studying a chart of the stars, one 
sunny afternoon, shut alone in his chamber, he jumped 
suddenly to his feet r cape pulled close about him and 
cap drawn tightly over his bald head, and raised his 
white wand heavenward. His eyes were darting flames, 
and the muttering that passed his lips seemed to indicate 
happiness, closely akin to a boyish whistle. All the 
time his old face twitched and quivered as though he 
were holding in great glee. He was casting a spell, 
and uttering an incantation. 

"My chance, at last!" he almost shouted. Then, in 
an excess of excitement he called Ariel to him, bidding 
him change into a water nymph, invisible to all eyes 
save those of his master. He was to ride on the backs 
of the clouds and of the sea waves till he reached a huge 
white vessel out in the sea. This he was to board, 
darting on the prow, between the quarter deck and fore- 
castle, in the cabin, on the top mast of the yards, on 
the bowsprit, all the while darting forth flames of fire 
to excite those on board with the wildest fright, and to 
urge to frenzy with cracks of fire and sulphurous roar- 
ings and claps of thunder more terrible than those of 
omnipotent Jove. Besides all this, he was to raise a 
heavy storm of rain. 

Prospero's strange excitement was due to the fact 
that he had just learned, through his magic power, that 
Alonzo of Naples was returning home after having 
married his daughter, Claribel, to the Prince of Tunis, 
and that the vessels carrying him and his party were 
not far distant off the coast. With Alonzo and his 



The Tempest 13 

handsome son Ferdinand were Antonio, Prospero's 
false brother, and good old Gonzalo besides a number of 
gentlemen of the court. Prospero's plan was to ship- 
wreck them so that they would all land on his island, 
where they would be at the mercy of his power. 

According, then, to the commands which Prospero had 
given him, Ariel raised a terrific gale out of a beauti- 
fully blue and serene sky. Somewhat surprised at such 
changeable weather, Alonzo and his friends were retiring 
to the cabin when they found themselves being thrown 
against the rails of the vessel, for Ariel had so managed 
it that they were being hurled against a rugged promon- 
tory. A very few seconds later, even before the signal 
of danger had really been given, the air was rent with the 
crew's shouts of "we split, we split!" Alonzo, very 
loath to die, rushed about the plunging deck, clasping 
his hands, and imploring the master to save the vessel. 
Gonzalo, who had spent all his life trying to comfort 
others, tried to make light of the danger, and picking 
out the boatswain, whom he thought had an especially 
tough looking face, he used him for the target of a 
joke, remarking: "We'll all be saved with that fellow 
over yonder. 'Me thinks he hath no drowning mark up- 
on him ; his complexion is perfect gallows.' " 

But in spite of the efforts of the crew, whom the 
boatswain encouraged all he could with gaily calling, 
above the roar of the breakers, "Heigh, my hearties ! my 
hearts! Cheerily, cheerily ! My hearts! Yare! Yare!''' 
it was soon evident that the vessel was lost. Throwing 
away the rigging to lighten the boat was of no use, 
and the stark eyed sailors had just rushed into the cabin 
where King Alonzo and his part}' were -at prayer when 
the boat split in two, a sharp crag having bored through 
her hull. 

"All's lost !" was the cry of despair, and the other 
vessels, watching the wreck, were powerless to help. 



14 The Tempest 

In the midst of all the tumult, Prince Ferdinand, lusty 
and loving life, seemed to be ' the most collected, and 
realizing that clinging to the boat meant sure death, he 
risked a chance of swimming to the shore, and was the 
first to plunge headlong into the seething waves. Thrust- 
ing out his powerful arms in long strokes, he was bend- 
ing every effort for the shore, forgetful of his com- 
panions who, in turn, forgot him, so eager was each 
for his own safety. 

Happy with the mischief he had caused at the order 
of his master Ariel flew over the heads of the Neapolitans, 
struggling in the rough waves, and returned to the 
aged magician. 

"My brave spirit," said Prospero lovingly as he 
stroked the saffron wings of his little sprite, "was there 
one among them all who was not terrified by my 
storm?" 

And the frisky little demon Ariel, chuckling as only 
a sprite can chuckle, answered, "Like madmen were they 
all, and all but the crew quit the vessel, and plunged 
wildly into the foaming brine." Brave as handsome 
Prince Ferdinand was, his hair had raised on ends, stiff 
as the reeds on a river bank, and he had yelled, as he 
jumped, so terrified was he at the danger, "Hell is 
empty, and all the devils are here !" 

Though Prospero's work may seem cruel, his plan 
was really a kind one for he intended that none should 
drown or, in any way, be injured. Ariel had special 
orders to lead the gallant young prince to a shady nook 
on the shore where he left him, almost exhausted from 
his long struggle, sitting with head drooped on his 
breast, arms crossed in dejection, and the water forming 
in pools about him while he moaned aloud for his father 
and friends. Little did the heartbroken Ferdinand 
imagine that all the Neapolitans were as safe as he. But 
Ariel, careful of his trust, had guided the crew, which 



The Tempest 15 

had not jumped from the doomed boat, to a safe harbor 
on the coast of the island, and, safely stowed under the 
hatches, they were all peacefully sleeping. As for his 
father Alonzo with Antonio and their freinds, they had 
all been washed to shore some two miles down the coast, 
where even now they mourned young Ferdinand as lost 
to them. The rest of the fleet, having seen what they 
supposed to be the entire destruction of the king's ship, 
were already sadly bound for home to report the disaster. 

The day of the wreck, after her father had soothed 
Miranda, and promised her that none were to suffer in 
the terrible storm which he had raised, she was sitting 
near the door of their cave weaving herself a chaplet of 
long grasses. She was very happy in her simple amuse- 
ment, and a tender smile lighted her face, making her 
more lovely then ever. Stooping to pull another long 
red grass, the song on her lips was checked, the warm 
blush rushed madly into her cheeks, and she dropped her 
crown to clutch her heart. She had risen from her rock 
seat, and stood panting as she gazed speechless into the 
brown eyes of a handsome sprite, she thought him, ar- 
rayed in purple velvet and silver who was but a few 
rods from her, and holding her look with his which 
spoke open eyed admiration. 

The handsome sprite was, of course, no other than 
Prince Ferdinand. Ariel had capered about his head 
while he sat mourning his father, circling in and out, 
having always an invisible form, playing and singing 
so melodiously that Ferdinand, perforce, forgot his 
sorrow, and longed only to follow the seducing music, 
and learn wherefrom it came. 

"Come unto these yellow sands, 

And then take hands ; 
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd 

The wild waves whist, 
Foot it featly here and there; 

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. 



16 The Tempest 

Hark, Hark ! 

Bough, Wough. 
The watch-dogs bark: 
Bough, wough. 
Hark, hark ! I hear 
The strain of strutting chanticlere 
Cry cock-a-doodle-do. 

At first Ferdinand was undecided whether the music 
came from heaven or earth, so cleverly did Ariel play 
his tabor. One fact, however, was certain. The music 
was not mortal; but was probably the homage which 
spirits were paying the god of the island. Raising him- 
self with an effort, for his body was sore and exhausted, 
Ferdinand followed, with uncertain step, the music which 
every so often ceased and then burst out again with re- 
newed sweetness, never, however, giving any hint as to its 
source. 

As Prospero had foreseen, the music gradually soothed 
Ferdinand. His spirit became calm, and he forgot the 
loss of his father. But, suddenly, Ariel broke into a 
new song which turned like a knife in the heart of 
Ferdinand : 

"Full fathoms five thy father lies ; 

Of his bones are corral made ; 
Those are pearls that were his eyes ; 

Nothing of him that doth fade 
But doth suffer a sea-change 
Into something rich and strange. 
Sea-nymphs hourly ring is knell : 

Ding-dong. 
Hark ! now I hear them, — Ding-dong, bell. 

Trembling with awe at the words which the spirit sang, 
Ferdinand crossed himself devoutly, and muttered sol- 
emnly, "this is no mortal business, nor no sound that 
the earth owes.." 

Under the fascination of Ariel's melodies, the young 
prince had continued to follow the spirit's guidance, 



The Tempest 17 

though his tears had started to flow at the mention of his 
lost father. And so when he came thus suddenly upon 
the beautiful Miranda, he thought that it was the 
glisten in his eyes that made him see before him this 
maiden, fairer to his mind than the angels of heaven. 

"Oh, dear father, what may it be?" asked Miranda 
when she had recovered from her first astonishment suffi- 
ciently to speak. Her eyes were big with wonder, and 
she tore at her collar as if it would suffocate her. 

"Is it a spirit from those strange lands of which you 
have told me?" she questioned, her breath coming in 
snatches between her full parted lips. "How he looks 
at me ! How his eyes shine into mine ! How handsome 
he is ! Oh, father !" Miranda broke into a sob of 
ecstasy. 

According to the farsighted plan of Pfospero, Mir- 
anda had fallen in wildest love with the gallant Prince 
Ferdinand, who at first sight of the beautiful maiden 
had decided that life without her would not be worth 
living. 

FERDINAND AND MIRANDA 

At Miranda's sudden outburst, old Prospero looked 
up from his chart of the heavens, sleepily rubbed his 
eyes, and gazed slowly about him. Who would have 
accused him of knowing aught of the coming of the 
handsome Neapolitan Prince? Much less, who would 
have thought that old Prospero himself had caused 
Ferdinand's coming? 

"Oh, that?" Prospero chuckled kindly in his long 
white beard. "That, my daughter, is no spirit ! It eats 
and" sleeps, and hath such senses as we have. He was in 
the wreck that so distressed your tender heart, and lost 
all his fellows. No, no, child," Prospero laughed under 
his beard, "he's an ordinary enough sort of person, the 
world is full of such as he ; but still, if it were not for 
the fact that 'he's something stain'd with grief, that's 



18 The Tempest 

beauty's canker, thou might'st call him a goodly per- 
son.' " 

"An ordinary enough sort of person," repeated Mi- 
randa in a dazed fashion, "Ordinary ! Why, father, it's 
divine, divine, nothing natural could possibly be so 
noble !" 

And with hands outstretched and bated breath, 
treading lightly over the leaves on the ground lest their 
slightest rustle would alarm and drive away the radiant 
spirit, Miranda advanced cautiously towards Ferdinand. 
The Prince, impelled by the same subtle love that urged 
Miranda, walked carefully to meet her, his hands and 
arms outstretched as though he were about to take the 
gloriously fair maiden in his embrace. But his eyes 
betrayed his fear that the goddess, as he thought her, 
would vanish from his sight and elude him, ere he reached 
her, and had a chance to hear the music of her voice. 

Ferdinand had traveled far over all the known parts 
of the world; but as he gazed into the blue eyes of 
Miranda, and saw the white lights dart in them, as he 
watched the flashes from the ruddy gold hair that 
framed her flushed cheeks, and felt her sweet breath 
breaking in half sobbing gasps over him, he thought 
that she was the most wonderful creature that he had 
ever set eyes on. If she were a maiden and no goddess 
— ! Ferdinand trembled at the daring thought that 
filled his brain. 

"Most surely a goddess," Ferdinand at length ad- 
dressed Miranda, and his voice was husky with fear and 
worship. "This music I have heard is attending you, 
is it not?" Then seeing the color deepen in Miranda's 
cheeks, seeing the smile that curved on her lips, Ferdi- 
nand shouted boyishly as he all but grasped Miranda in 
his eager arms, "O you wonder! Are you a maid? Tell 
me, are you?" 

She a goddess? It seemed so funny to simple 



The Tempest 19 

hearted little Miranda that she threw her head back and 
laughed mirthfully, and, the tears running down her 
cheeks, she answered, wholly unabashed, "No wonder, 
sir; but certainly a maid." 

"Why, fair one, you speak my native language !" 
exclaimed Ferdinand in the deepest astonishment. Then, 
because he was anxious that Miranda should think well 
of him, the Prince continued, with something of pride 
in his voice, 

"I am the best of them that speak this speech, 
Were I but where 'tis spoken. 

myself am Naples ; 

Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld 
The king my father wreck'd." 

"Alack, for mercy, sir," exclaimed the gentle Miranda, 
troubled at thought of the grief that had come into the 
life of the handsome Prince. But old Prospero, who had 
stepped forward so as to overhear the conversation, 
tapped Ferdinand on the arm with his magical white 
wand, and beckoned him to a seat on a tree stump, and 
said gruffly "A word, good sir. I fear me you have 
made false claims to the throne of Naples. A word 
with you, good sir." 

On hearing her father's voice, the quick tears had 
started into Miranda's blue eyes. How could her 
father treat a Prince, and one so handsome, too, in such 
a manner! Never before had Miranda heard Prospero 
speak in such tones of displeasure save to the brute 
Caliban. "Oh, oh," she panted prayerfully under her 
breath as she clasped tight her hands now trembling 
with fear, 

"This 
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first 
That e'er I sigh'd for: Pity move my father 



20 The Tempest 

Softly as Miranda had spoken, it was not too low for 
the love tuned ear of Ferdinand who, turning towards 
her, whispered tenderly, 

"O ! if a virgin, 
And your affections not gone forth, I'll make you 
The queen of Naples." 

Prospero, with knit eyebrows and bent head, had 
been tracing mystical symbols on the ground, seemingly 
unconscious of what had passed between the Prince 
Ferdinand and his daughter. But of course he knew 
what was happening, and, in fact, had made this chance 
for the two young people to exchange words of love and 
comfort in what appeared to them to be a time of 
threatening danger. At the marked success of his 
great plan, Prospero rejoiced, and turning away as 
though to catch a bird call which was heard in the dis- 
tant cypress, he smiled broadly before he once more ad- 
dresesd Ferdinand, and charged him cruelly : 

"Thou dost here usurp 
The name thou own'st not; and hast put thyself 
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it 
From me, the lord on't." 

Prospero did not believe a word of the charge he was 
making; he was just trying to put a stumbling block 
in the way of what he knew to be true love "lest too 
light winning make the prize light." 

At the insult hurled at him by the majestic old Pros- 
pero, Ferdinand at once grasped his sword, for he was 
chivalrous, and was prepared to defend his honor as be- 
came a Prince of the royal blood of Naples. The 
magician's words stung red on Ferdinand's sun burned 
cheeks. Traitor, Prospero had dared to call him! And 
he had threatened in his most kingly and terrifying 
manner : 



The Tempest 21 

"I'll manacle thy neck and feet together; 
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be 
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks, 
Wherein the acorn cradled." 

When he had commanded Ferdinand to follow him 
and prepare to submit to such indignities the young 
prince, with clutched sword, had hurled an answer, 

"No; 
I will resist such entertainment, till 
Mine enemy has more power." 

Then did Prospero smile triumphantly. He admired 
the gallantry of the insulted Prince ; but he determined 
to make him submit by showing him his own superior 
power. Lightly he rapped Ferdinand's brave sword with 
his white wand. And immediately was the Prince 
charmed. Unable was he to move a muscle, and his 
weapon hung threateningly suspended in midair as he 
had raised it to defend himself. 

"Ha, ha," Prospero laughed mockingly at the look 
of chagrin that overspread the face of his captive. 
"You traitor, you ! Put up your sword. I can disarm 
you with my little stick ! Traitor ! 'Who mak'st a show, 
but dar'st not strike, thy conscience is so possess'd with 
guilt.' " 

This was more than the gentle hearted Miranda could 
bear. And swiftly gliding up to her lover, she put her 
little hand caressingly on his arm as she turned to her 
father and, with tears streaming down her white cheeks, 
pleaded with him, 

"0 dear father, 
Make not too rash a trial of him, for 
He's gentle, and not fearful. 
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: 
If the ill spirit have so fair a house, 
Good things will strive to dwell with't." 



22 The Tempest 

Beautiful indeed did Miranda look as she pleaded 
thus for her lover, and it was all that Prospero could 
do to persist in his cruelty, so longingly did he wish to 
take his charming daughter in his arms and comfort 
her. It seemed to him, however, that sternness was 
necessary for the perfect ending of his plan. So the 
aged Duke turned angrily on Miranda, and bristling 
with rage demanded, "What! 'my foot my tutor!' Let 
go of my cloak ! Hush, I command ! If you utter one 
more word, I shall chide you, if not hate you! My 
daughter to plead for an imposter? Huh! You think 
there are no more men in the world as handsome as he 
having seen none but him and Caliban ! Foolish girl !" 

"To the most of men this is a Caliban, 
And they to him are angels." 

But Miranda, emboldened to withstand her father by 
her deep love for Ferdinand, threw herself on the ground 
at her father's feet and with clasped hands raised to him 
persisted, stammering the words between her sobs, "Dear 
father, have pity on him. I will be his surety for I love 
him truly, and if he is a humble mortal, and but an 
ordinary man of the world, 'my affections are then most 
humble : I have no ambition to see a goodlier man. ' ' ' 

Ignoring the plea of Miranda, Prospero swept up to 
the young prince and tapping him on the arm, motioned 
him to the cave. And Ferdinand meekly followed feeling 
in his heart that the death of his father, the loss of all 
his dearest friends, the threats and insults which were 
heaped upon him would all be light to him if only, as 
he muttered, 

"Might I but through my prison once a day 
Behold this maid : all corners else o' the earth 
Let liberty make use of; space enough 
Have I in such a prison." 



The Tempest 23 

So chuckling to himself, Prospero led the way to 
Ferdinand's prison, and when purposely he had gotten 
far ahead of the prince, Miranda, who was watching 
her opportunity, sprang quickly to the side of her lover, 
threw her arms about his neck and whispered caress- 
ingly, "Be of good cheer. My father has a kinder 
heart than his rough words would lead you to think. 
Be of good cheer and remember that I — "" Pros- 
pero turned to look back at his charge, and Miranda 
was walking discreetly behind Ferdinand, eyes down- 
cast, and a look of the deepest sorrow on her sweet 
face. 

Prospero was now certain that absolute success awaited 
his plan, and, for the help that the little sprite Ariel 
had given in rescuing Ferdinand, and in leading him 
to Miranda, Prospero promised him freedom within two 
days. 

On arriving at what was to be Ferdinand's prison cell, 
-it was soon evident to the young prince, as well as to 
Miranda, that the threats of Prospero had not been idle 
ones. Several thousand cypress logs were lying about 
the mouth of the cave, and these Ferdinand was com- 
manded to carry off and arrange in orderly piles. With- 
out a word of remonstrance, Ferdinand fell to work, 
all his labors lightened by the thought of the sweet 
Miranda, who, whenever her father was engrossed in 
his mystical books, or had gone to take his usual after- 
noon nap, would steal away to the side of her lover, 
comforting him merely by her presence. Smiling to 
himself, Ferdinand argued, 

' 'There be some sports are painful ; and their labor 
Delight in them sets off ; some kinds of baseness 
Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters 
Point to rich ends. This my mean task 
Would be as heavy to me, as odious ; but 
The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's dead. 
And makes my labors pleasures," 



24 The Tempest 

And his heart beating fast at the thought of his 
sweetheart, Ferdinand whispered to himself, "0 ! she is 
ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed, and he's 
composed of harshness." 

Though Miranda went to comfort Ferdinand, her 
visit generally ended with his having to comfort her, 
so tender hearted was she, and so distressed was she 
at seeing him sweat and shrink under the heavy weight 
of the cypress logs. 

"Please don't work so hard ! Please," Miranda would 
beg tearfully. "I wish the lightning had burned these 
logs so that you couldn't pile them up ! Please rest a 
bit. My father's sleeping now, and won't see you." 

And when Ferdinand objected that the sun would 
long be set ere he had finished the task assigned, Mi- 
randa urged, "If you rest, I'll carry, and the work will 
go on just the same. Pray, let me take that one. There, 
please put it on my back, I'll carry it !" 

And Ferdinand would fondly shake his head at her, 
smiling his answer, 

"No, precious creature ; 
I'd rather crack my sinews, break my back, 
Than you should such dishonor undergo, 
While I sit lazy by." 

It seemed to the loving Miranda that the work was 
no harder for her than for Ferdinand. Besides, she 
would do it quicker than he, her good will being in the 
work, and his being set against it. Moreover, it seemed 
to the kind eyes of Miranda that her lover looked tired. 
This, however, he denied, declaring that it was always 
fresh morning for him when she was by. 

And all this time, Ferdinand did not so much as 
know the name of his sweetheart, nor did Miranda know 
the name of her lover! 

"I beseech you tell me your name that I may set it 
down in my prayers," Ferdinand said to Miranda one 



The Tempest 25 

afternoon. And then, although her father had com- 
manded her not to tell it, she let the word slip over her 
lips before she had time to consider. 

"Miranda! Miranda! Miranda! Admired Miranda!" 
Ferdinand worked about whispering the name to him- 
self. "Worth what's dearest in all the world," he said 
fondly. And then, gently taking Miranda's hands in 
his grimy ones, he said simply to her, 

"Full many a lady 
I have ey'd with best regard ; and many a time 
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage 
Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues 
Have I lik'd several women; never any 
With so full soul, but some defect in her 
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd, 
And put it to the foil ; but you, O you ! 
So perfect, and so peerless, are created 
Of every creature's best." 

Miranda believed the words of her lover, and smiled, 
gratified, but not embarrassed, as she left her hands in 
the clasp of his and simply told him how she had seen 
no woman's face save the reflection of her own in the 
streams. As to men, he and Caliban were all she had 
ever beheld. She knew nothing of men out in the world, 
nor did she care to know about them, for, she said, smil- 
ing trustingly into Ferdinand's brown eyes, 

"I would not wish 
Any companion in the world but you ; 
Nor can imagination form a shape, 
Besides yourself, to like of." 

Whereupon Ferdinand, glad that his love was re- 
turned, but sober from the very joy of the knowledge, 
told Miranda that, as a warrant of his love, he was en- 
during this wooden slavery ; for her sake, becoming a 
patient log-man, he who in his own right was king. 



26 The Tempest 

From the moment his eyes had looked into hers, his 
heart had fled to her service and become her willing 
slave. 

"Why, then, you must love me?" said simple Mi- 
randa, and joy shone in her blue eyes like stars. 

"Love you! Miranda, I love, prize, honor you above 
all the worth of the- world," answered Ferdinand as he 
fell on the ground before her and kissed reverently the 
hem of her white gown. 

"And will we be married, I your wife, and you my 
husband?" It all seemed too wonderful for Miranda to 
believe. 

"Yes, dearest. And always will I be as humble be- 
fore you as I now am, and forever will my heart be as 
loving." 

Tears of unworthiness glistened in Miranda's eyes 
as she listened to these words of her lover. Timidly 
she slipped her hand into Ferdinand's, and said haltily, 
"here's my hand, with my heart in it, dear." Suddenly 
Miranda ran towards her father's cave. It was time 
for Prospero to awake, and Miranda dared not be miss- 
ing when he looked to find her. 

"I'll be back in half an hour," joyously called Mi- 
randa as she turned to wave adieu to her lover. 

A few minutes later, when Prospero came from his 
sleeping cell, the demure Miranda was quietly weaving a 
cincture for her golden hair. She smiled up lovingly at 
her father, and told him that he looked rested from his 
long sleep. Poor Miranda ! What would she have 
thought could she have seen her aged father rubbing his 
hands in glee, impatiently stroking his long white beard, 
and muttering to himself, as he paced up and down his 
sleeping cell, "It's not a surprise to me, not a surprise 
to me; but I'm almost as happy over it as those two 
children are, almost as happy !" 



The Tempest 27 

KING ALONZO AND HIS COURTIERS 

Following the commands of the ever watchful Pros- 
pero, Ariel in the meanwhile had taken his tabor, or 
small drum, and had returned to hover invisible over the 
heads of the Neapolitans as they sat dejected on the sea 
beach, bemoaning the supposed loss of the gallant 
Prince Ferdinand. It was a very spiritless group that 
the sprite Ariel came upon. King Alonzo wearily rest- 
ed his head on hands that seemed too weak for the 
burden. And Antonio chewed fiercely at his long red- 
dish brown mustache as he thought, not of Ferdinand, 
but of the little chance that he had of ever returning 
to the throne of Milan. 

"After what I had to do to my brother Prospero, too, 
in order to get the kingdom," Antonio growled under 
his breath as he glanced, in disgust, at Alonzo who was 
rocking back and forth, and moaning. 

Excepting the good old man Gonzalo, the courtiers 
were all stretched at full length on the sand, resting 
their weary bones after the tussle they had had with 
the strength of the waves, and cursing the chance that 
had taken them in the royal party to attend the wedding 
in Tunis. 

Old Duke Gonzalo had spent his entire life trying to 
make others happy, and the habit of sixty years still 
clinging, he smiled kindly at the little circle about him, 
and spoke in gentle tones of loving comfort, "We ought . 
to give thanks, friends, for our good fortune. For 
we really have much to be grateful for." Tears shone 
in the good old Duke's eyes. 

'Our escape 
Is much beyond our loss : Our hint of woe 
Is common : every day, some sailor's wife, 
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, 
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle, 
I mean our preservation, few in millions 
Can speak like us." 



28 The Tempest 

Really, we ought to be grateful, and try to 'weigh our 
sorrow with our comfort'," reasoned the good man. 

But all suggestions of Gonzalo were scorned and 
jeered at. 

"I pray you, keep still!" moaned King Alonzo. 

"At your old trick of giving good advice, I see !" 
said Antonio with infinite scorn in his voice. 

"And he's going at it again. Hark ! the old fellow's 
'winding up the watch of his wit : by and by it will 
strike,' " sneered young Sebastian, brother of Alonzo. 

But Gonzalo was used to just such treatment, and 
so, with a little laugh at his own expense, he went on, 
"There's everything on this beautiful little island needed 
for us to sustain life with. See how long and juicy the 
blue green grass is! See?" And he tore off a handful 
and passed it to King Alonzo who scattered it to one 
side, groaning, and without looking at it. 

"Another strange thing," said Gonzalo as he gently 
stroked the arm of Antonio "is that our garments, for 
all their drenching, are as fresh now as when we first 
donned them at the wedding of the beautiful Claribel." 

"Oh keep still about that wedding!" growled young- 
Sebastian. "That was a mighty sweet wedding, I tell 
you, and we had the best good fortune coming home 
from it !" 

"But your majesty, isn't my purple velvet doublet 
just as fine as when I first wore it at the marriage cere- 
monies of your lovely daughter?" persisted Gonzalo 
who was trying hard to divert the king's attention 
from his own troubles. 

"Gonzalo, you will persist in cramming those words 
into my ears, won't you? and even when I beg you to 
stop. I wish I had never heard of Tunis ! At one blow 
I've lost a son and a daughter because of that same 
Tunis." 

"He may be alive," timidly suggested Lord Fran- 



The Tempest 29 

cisco, who was touched by the helpless grief of his 
king. 

"I saw him beat the surges under him, ,s 
And ride upon their backs : he trod the water, 
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted 
The surge most swollen that met him: his bold head 
'Bore the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd 
Himself with his good a.rms in lusty stroke 
To the shore." 

"No, no, Francisco, he's dead ! I'll never see him 
again ! O my heir of Naples and Milan ! 'What strange 
fish hath made his meal on thee?' " moaned Alonzo, the 
bitter tears of anguish rolling down his furrowed cheeks. 

"Well, you have no one to thank but yourself ," 
Sebastian said brutally. "You wouldn't marry Claribel 
to any monarch in Europe, but had to, banish her to 
Tunis "where the poor girl, Aveeping, begged you not to 
send her. We all knelt to you, and importuned you; 
but your will was law. As you say, you've lost by it 
a son and a daughter. Well, the fault's all yours !" 

Then up spoke Gonzalo, a flame of disgust in his 
eyes for the unbrotherly talk of Sebastian. 

"The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, 
And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, 
When you should bring the plaster." 

Then his voice changing pleasantly, he ambled on, 
"Friends, if I were king on this beautiful little island, 
I'd " 

"Plant weeds !" snickered Antonio. 

"Yes, nettle-seed, docks, or mallows !" added Sebas- 
tian. 

"Never get drunk because you had no wine !" scoffed 
a third. "Have a government that would be contrary- 
wise to anj'thing in Europe. In my land 

'No kind of traffic 
Would I admit; no name of magistrate; 



30 The Tempest 

Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, 
And use of service, none; contract, succession, 
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; 
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil : 
No occupation ; all men idle, all ; 
And women too ; but innocent and pure : 
************* 

All things in common nature should produce 
Without sweat or endeavor: treason, felony, 
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, 
Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth, 
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, 
To feed my innocent people.' 

This was greeted with shouts of derision. "Save 
his majesty!" or "Long live King Gonzal^^ filled the 
air. But, undisturbed, the aged Duke appealed to 
Alonzo who snapped at him for bothering him with his 
empty chatter. 

"It was but to make you laugh, your majesty," Gon- 
zalo was interposing when the fairy Ariel, hovering 
overhead, began to play softly, music lulling and rest 
giving as a lullaby. As the magician Prospero had 
foreseen, the music had immediate effects; for in five 
minutes after Ariel had begun his seducing melody, 
all were lying fast asleep on the sandy beach except 
Sebastian and Antonio. 

"What a strange drowsiness seems to possess them," 
said Sebastian with a touch of scorn in his voice. 

"It is the quality of the climate," answered Antonio 
listlessly. 

But unlike their companions, neither Antonio nor 
Sebastian were able to go to sleep. Antonio declared 
that his spirits were particularly nimble, so much so 
in fact, that his brain had been running on the idea of 
what an exalted station in life worthy Sebastian might 
hold, if only ! Checking himself, as if fear- 
ing that he had spoken too freely, Antonio glanced slyly 
at Sebastian. Then leaning suddenly toward him, and 



The Tempest 31 

resting his hand heavily on Sebastian's shoulder, An- 
tonio exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, "Sebastian, I see 
royalty in your face, and over your head I sec a crown 
pending." 

"Pshaw, you are sleeping," said Sebastian indiffer- 
ently. 

"Not I," replied Antonio craftily. "Your fortune 
sleeps, Sebastian ! But a little effort on our part will 
awake it. What harm in taking for granted that 
Ferdinand is dead? What claim, then, will Claribel 
have to the throne, she who lives ten leagues beyond 
man's life, and could receive no news from Naples 

'Unless the sun were post, 
(The man i' the moon's too slow,) 'till new born chins 
Be rough and razorable?" 

While he had been speaking, Antonio had carefully 
scrutinized his companion's face. He was not sure of 
Sebastian by any means ; but he was quite positive that 
his evil suggestion would not be openly resented. He 
meant to try Sebastian once more. Lowering his voice 
to a whisper, he put his lips to Sebastian's ear, and 
muttered "I seem to hear a voice saying, 'Let Sebastian 
wake ! Arouse the noble Sebastian !' The voice haunts 
my sleeping hours and makes my day a torture." 

Then holding Sebastian's eyes with his, Antonio con- 
tinued, "What if the sleepers were dead? Would they 
be worse off than now? Are there not those in Naples 
and Milan who can rule as well as Alonzo? Are not 
there lords who can prate as well as old Gonzalo ? Why, 
I myself could make as big a jackdaw!" 

For a few moments Antonio looked silently out over 
the sea, shaking his head and muttering to himself as 
though in earnest thought. Suddenly turning on 
Sebastian, he said pointedly, "Could not this sleep mean 
much for your advancement?" 

Sebastian understood, but did not take eagerly to 



32 The Tempest 

the plan. "I remember that you once supplanted your 
brother, Prospero," he said quietly. 

"True," replied Antonio unabashed, "and am I not 
as good a ruler as he was?" 

"But how about your conscience?" asked the un- 
willing Sebastian. 

"Conscience," sneered Antonio, "I do not feel 
This deity in my bosom : twenty consciences, 
That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they, 
And melt, ere they molest.' 

There lies Alonzo, no better than the earth he is sleep- 
ing on. Three inches of my sword would make his 
rest eternal. By a like movement, you might dispatch 
this Sir Prudence, this Gonzalo, who would never again 
interrupt our plans. As for the rest of the lords, 

'They'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk ; 
They'll tell the clock to any business that 
We say befits the hour.' " 

After some little time, Sebastian was won over by the 
evil suggestions of Antonio, and it was planned that 
by a double stroke of the sword, Sebastian would be 
King of Naples, and Antonio free from the tribute 
which he had once promised to pay to that principality. 

With hands clasped to seal the bloody compact, An- 
tonio and Sebastian were whispering their last words of 
arrangement when Ariel, invisible, bent low over the un- 
conscious Gonzalo, and whispered warningly in his ear, 
"Good old man, my master Prospero foresees danger to 
you ! Wake and guard your life !" Then the little 
fairy sang so that all might hear, 

'While you here do snoring lie, 
Open-ey'd conspiracy 

His time doth take : 
If of life you keep a care, 



The Tempest 33 

Shake off slumber, and beware : 
Awake ! Awake !' 

In a moment old Gonzalo had sprung to his feet, all 
alive, and seeing Antonio and Sebastian with drawn 
swords demanded, "What's up ? Why are your swords 
drawn, and why this look of white anguish on your 
faces? What has happened to thus frighten you?" 
For the aged duke, being so good himself, never for a 
minute suspected that any motive other than fear had 
caused his friends to draw their swords. 

"It was an awful noise," spoke up Sebastian quaking 
with fear, "like unto a bellowing of mad bulls, or roar- 
ing lions." 

"I heard nothing," said Alonzo who by now was also 
awake. 

"Oh it was fit to frighten the ears of a savage mon- 
ster, enough to make the very earth quake !" added 
Antonio. 

"All I heard was a strange humming, like singing !" 
said Gonzalo, "and it woke me to see Antonio and 
Sebastian standing shaking, and with swords drawn. 
The noises that frightened our good friends are liable 
to return. It were well that we quit this unhallowed 
spot, and go armed, all of us." 

Thus it happened that in a few minutes the weary 
men were on the march. 

"By lakin, I can go no further," said old Gonzalo 
when the king's party had walked for several hours. 
"My old bones ache with tramping over these marshes. 
With your majesty's leave, I'll sit me down and rest." 

"Old lord, I do not blame you; I myself am so weary 
that my very spirits are dulled. I have cast aside all 
hope. My gallant son is dead. Hear how the sea roars 
to mock our frustrate search." 

Most of the party reflected the spirit of the king. 



34 The Tempest 

It was gloomy weather to them when the king was 
gloomy. Not so, however, with Antonio and Sebastian, 
who decided on that very night to renew their attack. 
Would not the weariness of Gonzalo and Alonzo but 
abate the strength and violence with which they would 
defend themselves should they awake? 

As the band of Neapolitans were dejectedly resting, 
solemn and strange music was heard. In the midst of 
it, Prospero entered invisible, accompanied by a band 
of strange shapes who bore viands and wines, and 
placed them before the hungry men. Just as they were 
about to partake of the spread, a heavy storm of light- 
ning and thunder began to play about them, and while 
it raged at its height, the sprite Ariel descended in the 
form of a harpy, and beating his black wings on the 
table, caused it to vanish as quickly as it had appeared. 
Then turning fiercely on Alonzo, Sebastian and Antonio, 
Ariel said: "You three men of sin whom the sea has 
belched up on this beautiful island, you are not fit to 
live among men. I will make you mad, fools that you 
are! I will put you in a frenzy wherein men hang and 
drown their proper selves, and know not what they do. 

'the Elements, 
Of whom your swords are tempered, may as well 
Wound the loud winds, or with bemocked-at stabs 
Kill the self-closing waters, as diminish 
One dowle that's in my plume.' 

"You," Ariel turned to Antonio and Alonzo, "did 
supplant good Prospero from his kingdom, and with 
his innocent child, did expose him to the mercies of the 
sea; 

'for which foul deed 
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have 
Incensed the seas and shores, yea all the creatures 
Against your peace.' " 



The Tempest 35 

The only hope for the three was a future life of in- 
nocence and purity. Having uttered these ominous 
words, Ariel disappeared to receive the thanks of his 
master, Prospero, who felt now that his enemies were in 
his power. 

And well had Ariel done his work ; for the three 
wicked men were almost palsied with fright. They 
stood with drawn swords though they knew them to be 
powerless against the voice that had accused them. 
Alonzo, however, voiced the general fear when he said: 

'Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it ; 
The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder, 
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced 
The name of Prospero : it did bass my trespass. 
Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded; and 
I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, 
And with him there lie muddled.' 

And the three possessed men racing heedlessly away 
in blind terror, Gonzalo and the attending lords has- 
tened to follow them. It was feared that they would do 
themselves violence, for, as Gonzalo explained to his 
remaining companions, 

'Their great guilt, 
Like poison given to work a great time after, 
Now 'gins to bite the spirits.' 

At the same time that Antonio and Sebastian had 
conspired against the lives of Alonzo and Gonzalo, and 
had miraculously been prevented from accomplishing 
their foul plan by the sprite Ariel, the deformed Caliban 
was carrying wood for Prospero, and calling down the 
direst curses on his old master. "May every square 
inch of his body be turned into the foulest disease," he 
was muttering when his fish- like body wriggled with 
sudden fright, and the log tumbled off of his shoulders. 

"Lo, what's this? One of his evil spirits come to 



36 The Tempest 

torment me for being so slow about the wood ! It will 
pinch me, and fill my poor body with stings ! I'll trick 
it ! I'll fall flat on my face in the mud, and it may be 
that the evil thing will pass me by !" 

However, it was no spirit who was coming upon the 
miserable Caliban, but Trinculo, a jester of the court 
of Alonzo, who was growling to himself, muttering 
and swearing as he crashed along through the darkness, 
lead only by the flashes of lightning. 

"Such a place ! No bushes or shrubs to hide in ! And 
such a rain coming! With clouds over head big as bar- 
rels, and all ready to shed liquor ! That sky will rain 
bucketf uls ! What's this ?" for the growling Trinculo 
had kicked against the head of the crouching Caliban. 

"It's a fish ! No By my troth, it's a man, 

for it's warm!" ejaculated Trinculo who had stopped 
to feel the queer monster. "It must be an islander 
struck down by the lightning! Believe I'll crawl under 
his coat with him, and keep dry from the rain. Upon my 
word, 'Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fel- 
lows.' " 

While the court jester and the deformed Caliban were 
lying quietly on the ground together, who should stag- 
ger along but Stephano, a drunken butler of King 
Alonzo, who reeled and drank frequently from his brown 
bottle as he sang in tipsy fashion. 

"What's this, are there devils here?" Stephano had 
staggered against Trinculo and Caliban lying under 
the rubber rain coat, and, at first glance, had seen 
nothing but the two legs and fin. 

"Ho, ho ! the brave Stephano is afraid of no mon- 
ster!" boasted the maudlin butler as he hit the rain coat 
a loud crack with his heavy brown bottle. 

"O, spirit of Prospero, do not torture me! I'll bring 
in all the wood, and that quickly, too !" groaned Cali- 
ban while at the same moment Trinculo shouted, 
"Stephano, stop beating me or I'll ." 



The Tempest 37 

"The monster has the ague ! And it pretends to have 
two voices, and calls me by name ! That's a queer fish ! 
But I'm its friend, " sang the drunken Stephano, "and 
I'll give it drink from my nice brown bottle. Oh, I'm 
its friend!" And Stephano stooped down and was pry- 
ing open the heavy jaw of the torture-stricken Caliban 
when Trinculo, who was struggling to get from under 
the load of the rain coat called "Stephano, if you are 
really Stephano, speak to me, and touch me, for I am 
Trinculo, thy good friend Trinculo!" 

"I'll pull these two short legs. If you're under 
there, these are }^our legs ! Come forth, Trinculo !" 
And Stephano hauled the dazed Trinculo to his feet. 

The two Neapolitans were overjoyed to find each 
other. Especially was Trinculo pleased, and in his glee 
he kept whirling Stephano round and round, beating 
him on the back, and slapping his shoulder till the but- 
ler called out testily, "Quit twisting me ! My stomach 
isn't very steady !" 

By this time the liquor that Stephano had poured 
down Caliban's throat was beginning to take effect, and 
the monster, now drunk, squirmed on the ground, and 
muttered, "These are noble spirits, and I'll kneel to 
them and their fine drink !" And looking up to Stephano 
who had been kicking at him with his foot, he half 
whimpered, "Master, did you drop from the heavens?" 

"Out of the moon ! I'm the man in the moon," de- 
clared Stephano. 

"I have seen you often, and I adore you. My mis- 
tress showed you to me, and your dog and your bush. 
I'll kiss your foot, and show you the wealth of this 
island. I'll tell you where the fresh water springs, and 
where the ripest berries grow, and I'll fetch wood for 
you. No longer will I serve my present master. I'll 
serve you, O man in the moon! Besides, I'll get you 
fresh crabs ; with my long nails I'll dig you pig nuts. 
I'll show you a jay's nest, and clustering filberts and 



38 The Tempest 

the young sea-mells on the rocks. Will you go with 
me, O man of the moon?" And Caliban groveled at 
the feet of the drunken Stcphano. 

In a minute, the bargain was made. Stephano was 
to be king of the island, with Trinculo as lieutenant. 
Caliban was to be their servant, and have plenty to 
drink ; for Stephano had a whole wine cellar in the 
rotten trunk of a tree. In fact, the butler had come 
to shore straddeling a cask of wine. 

'No more dams I'll make for fish ; 

Nor fetch in firing 

At requiring, 
Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish: 

'Ban, 'Ban, Ca Caliban, 

Has a new master — Get a new man.' 

Sang the monster Caliban as he lead the way. Trin- 
culo alone saw the funny side of the arrangement that 
had been made, and, drunk himself, said laughingly 
when Caliban told him that there were two others on 
the island, Prcspero and Miranda, " 'If the other two 
be brain'd like us, the state totters.' " 

Thus the three drunken men reeled along, and quar- 
reled. At one moment Caliban would offer to lick the 
shoe of Stephano. At the next moment, Trinculo would 
call Caliban an ugly thing, half fish, half beast, where- 
upon Caliban would threaten to bite him to death, and 
Stephano would threaten to hang both on the nearest 
tree if they did not keep civil tongues in their heads. 
Between times, Caliban recounted the tale of his wrongs. 
"I am servant to a cruel tyrant, a sorceror who cheated 
me out of my possessions ! It was mine from nry mother 
Sycorax. If you, O man of the moon, will revenge my 
wrongs, you shall be lord over this fair island, and I 
will lick your feet. Give me some more of your noble 
brown bottle, and I will lead you to Prospero's cave. 
There we will hide till my master sleeps, and then, O, 



The Tempest 39 

valiant man of the moon, you can easily drive a nail 
into his white head and kill him. Every afternoon at 
three he sleeps. We will first seize his books, his magic 
books, for without them he is a weakling and has not 
one spirit at his command. I am not the only one who 
hates him; all his spirits hate him as I do. Just be 
sure to burn his books, his brave utensiles, as he calls 
them ; then we can easily do away with him ; brain him 
with a cypress log, paunch him with a steak, or cut his 
throat with a flint. But," a crafty look overspread 
Caliban's face, "Let us not harm the old man's daugh- 
ter, she is my mistress, my goddess ! Prospero himself 
calls her nonpareil. Excepting her, I have seen no 
woman but my mother, and Miranda as far surpasses 
Sycorax as the greatest surpasses the least." 

At mention of a beautiful woman, the dull interest of 
Stephano was aroused, and he at once proposed that the 
beautiful maiden should be his queen, to which Trin- 
culo and Caliban, as his viceroys, both assented. 

"In a half hour Prospero will be asleep, and then 
you will kill him, will you not, O brave man of the 
moon?" urged Caliban, who seemed to be restless until 
his old master were out of the way. 

"Ay, on my honor, servant-monster," answered 
Stephano, "We'll nail ." 

Interrupting Stephano, Ariel, who all this time, in an 
invisible form, had been listening to the plot, piped up 
a song. The music greatly frightened Stephano and 
Trinculo, who imagined that devils were about; but 
Caliban reassured them, saying, 

"The isle is full of noises, 
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. 
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments 
Will hum about mine ears ; and sometimes voices, 
That, if I then had waked after long sleep, 
Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, 



40 The Tempest 

The clouds, methought, would open, and show riches 
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked, 
I cried to dream again.' ". 

"My, but this is a fine kingdom ; music for nothing !" 
said Stephano, clapping Trinculo on the back. "Now 
I want to see the musician ! Let us chase the musician !" 

"Only kill Prospero first," urged Caliban. 

"I see that musician first!" decided Stephano in a 
kingly manner. And as he started after the tabor and 
pipe of the invisible Ariel, Trinculo and Caliban had no 
choice, but to follow. 

The Conspirators, Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo 

Chuckling to himself, gratified at his power over the 
wicked Alonzo, Antonio and Sebastian, the magician 
Prospero had hurried away to find Prince Ferdinand. 
There was a kindly, fatherly look in his faded old eyes 
as he extended to the young man one hand, and with the 
other affectionately stroked his shoulder. And his tones 
were husky with tears as he said, "My boy, if perhaps it 
seemed that I too severely punished you, that which I 
now intend to do will surely make full amends. What 
might have looked like cruelty was but the means an old 
father jealously took to test your love. And boy, so 
nobly have you stood the trial that 

'I 
Have given you here a thread of mine own life, 
Or that for which I live.' " 

Prospero drew the sleeve of his black gown across his 
eyes. 

"'O, Ferdinand! 
Do not smile at me, that I boast her off, 
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, 
And make it halt behind her.' " 

From the fondly tender manner in which Ferdinand 



The Tempest 41 

glanced at the blushing Miranda, it was easily seen that 
he more than agreed with her father. And the magician 
was satisfied. 

Then, leaving them, for they belonged to each other, 
Duke Prospero went in search of his good fairy Ariel, 
whom he commanded to bring together, as quickly as 
possible, and in the very place where they were then 
standing, "the rabble," as he called them, "o'er whom I 
gave thee power, for I intend to show yonder fond young 
couple some exhibition of my magical power. I prom- 
ised, and they expect it of me. Do my bidding in a 
twink ! Spry ! Ariel, my chick !" 

And to his potent master's order, Ariel made the dainty 
answer : 

"Before you can say 'come,' and 'go,' 
And breathe twice, and cry 'so, so,' 
Each one, tripping on his toe, 
Will be here with mop and mowe : 
Do you love me, master? no!" 

It was the plan of Prospero to give, in the presence of 
Ferdinand and his daughter, a masque, or fanciful array 
of heavenly spirits. Hardly had his order been given to 
the willing Ariel than sounds of the softest music were 
heard, and lo, there appeared, as though treading the 
clouds, Iris, the saffron-winged goddess of the rainbow. 
Scattering refreshing showers of honey-drops by the 
way, Iris tripped lightly, and approaching staid Ceres, 
queen of the harvests, she courtesied as she announced: 
"Most bounteous lady, the goddess of heaven bids you 
leave your rich leas, your tufted mountains and flat 
meadows, your banks with lillies and peonies trimmed, 
your broom groves and your sea-marge; here, Mother 
Ceres, where you see the royal peacocks of Juno sport- 
ing, you are to help celebrate a true love union." And 
full of glee at the prospect, the iridescent Iris fluttered 
her amber-like wings. 



42 The Tempest 

Ceres was more than willing to bless the happy lovers, 
and as her sister Juno approached her just then, she 
smiled benignly, and taking her by the hand sang in 
concert with her all marriage-blessings, hourly joys, 
earth's increase and rich plenty to the beautiful Miranda 
and the gallant Ferdinand. 

The young prince was going to exclaim his delight at 
this pageantry, but, raising his wand, Prospero bid him 
be silent. For just then there entered a band of Naiads 
from the winding brooks, charming in their crowns of 
long reeds. With them came a group of reapers, burned 
with the hot sun of August, their large rye-straw hats 
tilted far back from their broadly smiling faces. Join- 
ing hands, they were airily threading a graceful dance 
when suddenly Prospero was seen to start. His eyes grew 
cold and merciless, and his face convulsed as though 
with sudden anger. Instantly a hollow noise was heard, 
in the midst of which the vision vanished. 

"Your father is in a rage, what can it be?" asked 
Ferdinand, in whispered alarm. 

"I know not," answered the shrinking Miranda. 
"Never till this day have I seen him so moved by anger." 

"The pageantry is now ended, children," slowly said 
Prospero, who noticed the alarm of Miranda and the 
prince. 

"My spirits 
'Are melted into air, into thin air; 
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, 
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve; 
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, 
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff 
As dreams are made on, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep.' " 

Laughingly Prospero waved the happy lovers from 
him ; but no sooner had they turned their backs than 



The Tempest 43 

the blackest scowl overspread his face as he muttered, 
between twitching lips, "Now is the very moment of his 
plot ! That beast Caliban and his low companions to plan 
against my almost worthless life ! How could I have for- 
gotten? Ah — Caliban — !" The old Duke quivered with 
rage. 

"A devil, a born devil 



And as with age his body uglier grows, 
So his mind cankers." 

In the meanwhile the nimble Ariel had been on the out- 
look for the vile Caliban, the drunken butler Stephano, 
and the maudlin court jester Trinculo. Red-hot with 
drinking he found them, the idea uppermost in their 
sickly brains being to do away with Prospero. To trick 
them, Ariel had begun to play magically upon his tabor, 
and so charmed were the three that, calf -like, they fol- 
lowed the music. And where did the fairy lead them? 
Through "tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking gorse, 
and thorns which enter'd their frail shins." He had left 
them a short distance from Prospero's cave, floundering 
helplessly in a foul-smelling, slime-covered pool, which 
welled up almost to their chins. 

"Well done, my bird," Prospero had chuckled. "It 
was well done. Hasten, now, take my state robes of rose 
and purple with threads of gold and of silver. Hang 
these on a line near 'my cave. They will catch the eyes 
of the low brutes." 

It happened just as Prospero predicted. Down the 
cypress road three figures were seen staggering, be- 
smeared with scum and sea weed. Stephano and Trin- 
culo were growling; but Caliban was trying to quiet 
them. 

"Tread lightly, we're near the old mole's cell. The 
prize is now almost within our reach," assured Caliban. 

"But I lost my brown bottle in the pool," moaned 



44 The Tempest 

Trinculo. "Ah!" The jester gave a loud yell as he 
lunged at the cape of royal velvet which had attracted 
his attention, and threw it over his shoulders. 

"Oh king, look at me !" The maudlin Trinculo minced 
through the mud. 

"Take that off, I'm master of this island," roared 
Stephano. 

"Sh — ee!" cautioned the trembling Caliban, "he'll 
hear us and turn us all into 'barnacles, or to apes with 
foreheads villainously low.' Let's in, and kill him first, 
oh masters !" 

"Silence, fish beast!" thundered Stephano. "Carry 
these garments to the hollow tree in which is my hogs- 
head of red wine, or I'll turn you out of my kingdom." 
And with this direful threat, Stephano began piling 
clothes on the quivering back of the agonized Caliban. 
Trinculo helped him, and so well did they work that 
Caliban groaned, and was unable to stir an inch under 
the burden which his companions had put upon him. At 
this, Stephano and Trinculo laughed loud and up- 
roariously. 

"Toot, toot!" It was the sound of hunters' horns, 
and the baying of hounds that broke across the echo 
of their drunken laughter. And before the three wretches 
had gotten the direction of the danger, a pack made for 
them, driven on by Prospero and Ariel. 

"Hey, Mountain, hey !" called Prospero, who was try- 
ing to bay Caliban. At the same time the zephyr Ariel, 
hot on the trail of the weeping Trinculo, was shouting, 
"Silver, Silver, there he goes," or again "Fury, Fury, 
at him, Fury ! This way, Tyrant, here, Tyrant !" 

The air reverberated with the calls of the riders and 
the barking of excited dogs, and, in the midst of this con- 
fusion, the culprits were driven away. 

"Master, hear them roar," pleaded the gentle hearted 
Ariel. 



The Tempest 45 

"Let them expect no mercy from me," severely an- 
swered the aged Duke. 

"Go, charge my goblins that they grind their sinews 
With aged cramps ; and more pinch-spotted make 

them, 
Than pard or cat o' mountain." 

Then Prosper o, who should have felt only pleasure 
at his triumph over his would-be destroyer, turned from 
his gentle fairy, and seating himself on a cypress log, 
exhausted with the efforts of the day, wearily bowed his 
head on his folded, withered hands. Strength seemed 
to have left him, now that all his efforts and labors 
were culminating in success. 

A few hours later, however, arrayed in all the splen- 
dor of his magical robes, and once again his brisk self, 
Duke Prospero severely asked for an account of the 
royal prisoners, Alonzo, Antonio and Sebastian. 

"As you bid, dear master, they are all imprisoned in 
the line-grove which shades your cell," sadly answered 
the gentle Ariel. "Distracted are all three, and their 
friends mourn over them. 'The good old lord, Gonzalo, 
his tears run down his beard, like winter's drops from 
eaves of reeds.' Be gentle with them, dear master!" 
begged the little zephyr. "Your heart would be softened 
could you but see them!" 

"Would yours?" whimsically asked the Duke. 

"Mine would, sir, were I human," gravely answered 
Ariel. 

"The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance," 
Prospero spoke to himself. Then aloud, "Go, release 
them, Ariel: 

"My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, 
And they shall be themselves." 

And when the willing Ariel flew on his task of mercy, 
Prospero vowed to himself, "When this last great work 
of my life is accomplished, 



46 The Tempest 

"I'll break my staff, 
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, 
And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, 
I'll drown my book." 

Just at this moment there came an interruption to 
Prospero's musings. It was the music of his good fairy, 
and accompanying it sounded the tramping of feet. 
Looking up, the aged magician found himself gazing 
into the glazed and horror-stricken eyes of the three 
guilty men. Whether from sheer fright at the tongue- 
tied condition in which they found themselves, or because 
their brains were stagnant, none of them recognized 
Prospero. 

"Ariel," called Prospero after he had looked at them 
some minutes in scornful loathing, "fetch my hat and 
rapier. I'll present myself to them as they used to 
see me in Milan." And gladly the dainty Ariel flew 
to do the bidding of the master, the while singing joy- 
ously to himself, happy at the prospect of his freedom, 

"Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; 

In a cowslip's bell I lie ; 

There I couch when owls do cry : 

On the bat's back I do fly 

After summer, merrily. 

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, 

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough." 

And the aged Prospero, watching him, half-sighed as 
it flashed through his brain, "I'll miss thee, dainty 
Ariel!" 

A few moments later, his royal rapier in his hand, his 
tall black hat shoved back on his head, Prospero majesti- 
cally addressed Alonzo, Antonio and Sebastian. Each 
one in turn, he accused of his crime, till Alonzo panted 
excitedly, "He's some enchanted trifle to abuse us." 
Sebastian gasped, "It's the devil that speaks in him." 
And Antonio mutely nodded his consent. 

"Behold in me the wronged Duke of Milan, Pros- 



The Tempest 47 

pero!" The old magician drew himself up to his full 
height. 

"If you are Prospero, tell me where I have lost my 
dear son Ferdinand," interposed Alonzo: 

"Irreparable is the loss ; and Patience 
Says, it is past her cure." 

"I have a much greater loss," Prospero spoke with 
quiet scorn, "for I have lost a daughter." 

"A daughter ! heavens ! If they might but be 
king and queen together in Naples, I could wish that I 
myself were mudded in that oozy bed where my son 
lies. Tell me about it!" Alonzo wrung his hands in 
anguish. 

"Not now, it's a long story," said Prospero, smiling 
happily, it seemed, for a recently bereaved father. 
"Some other time. Let me welcome you all to my cell 
court. Since you all agree to give me back my king- 
dom (they had, eagerly, when they came out of their 
trance, and recognized Prospero) I will requite you 
with as good a thing. At least, I wili surprise you." 
Uttering these words Prospero twisted his magic white 
wand and lo! the entrance of the cave flew open. Won- 
ders of wonders ! Seated at a small cypress table, hap- 
pily playing at chess together, sat — Ferdinand and 
Miranda. 

"If this is one of the visions of the island, I have twice 
lost my son," faltered Alonzo. 

"I call it a miracle," vouchsafed Sebastian. 

At the sound of the voices, Ferdinand and Miranda 
looked up. "Father!" exclaimed the Prince; "though 
the seas threatened, they were merciful, without cause 
have I cursed them," and weeping, Ferdinand fell at 
the feet of his overcome father. 

"How wonderful!" exclaimed Miranda. "Father, 
who are these goodly creatures? How beauteous man- 



48 The Tempest 

kind is ! What a brave new world this is ! How many 
people there are in it !" 

Mute and abashed at the innocence and the sur- 
passing loveliness of Miranda, the Neapolitans stared 
dumbly at her. But the prince broke the silence. Ten- 
derly he took Miranda's hand and placed it in his 
father's. "She's mortal, father, and she's mine," he 
boasted in his happy pride, "and daughter of the famous 
Duke of Milan." 

"Look down, ye Gods !" half-sobbed the good old 
Duke Gonzalo, "On this happy couple drop a blessed 
crown. It was you, O gods, that marked the way which 
brought us here." And the rest of the Neapolitans 
reverently said, "Amen." 

The next few moments were happy ones while the 
joyous pair received the well wishes of their friends. 
But they were interrupted by shouts and loud halloos, 
as the*master and the boatswain of the supposedly lost 
vessel with a troop of sailors came amazedly upon them. 
"The ship's all right, your majesty," called the boat- 
swain. "Three glasses since, we thought she was split, 
but we find that she is tight and ready, and as bravely 
rigged as when we first put out to sea." 

Early the next morning, the wind favorable, the 
golden sun lighting their pathway over the seas, the 
Neapolitans, with Duke Prospero and Miranda, set sail 
for their fatherland, where, as soon as could be ar- 
ranged, the nuptials of the happy lovers were solemnized. 

Back on the deserted island, Ariel was trying his 
wings as he flew now very close to the sky, or again 
lightly skimmed the seething waves along the coast; 
and Caliban, no longer under the evil influence of man, 
was roaming at will over the cypress-studded stretches, 
where he could harm no one, but could spend the day 
in amusing his dull soul with the witchery of the winds, 
the brightness of the birds, and the fragrance of the 
flowers which bestrewed his path. 



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